When You're In Prison
by Sushi Chi
Summary: Shassie!AU Shawn Spencer was the last thing Carlton Lassiter ever expected to find in prison.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych at all. Which saddens me a bit, but s'okay. That's what fanfiction is for.  
A/N: Okay, the title is from an Offspring song. And I personally think Lassie is slightly out of character but like I said in the disclaimer, fanfiction. I started writing this, oh, I don't know when, a while ago and found it again tonight so I finished it and had my friend give it a once over before posting it. Let me know what you think. By the by, in case you didn't read the summary, AU and Shassie. If you enjoy (hope you do) review please and thank you.  
Enjoy!**

Lassiter looked into what was now his cell. His home. His domain. It was small. Very small. And dark and dirty. And the bottom bunk was enclosed like a tent, a blanket tucked under the top mattress creating a safe enclosure for whoever was already sleeping there.

"Spencer." The guard, a Henry Spenstarr said, "Time to get to know your new cell mate."

The blanket moved and a younger man smiled at him, "Hey. I'm Shawn." He scrambled out of the corral of bed.

Lassiter walked in as Spenstarr closed the door, "Play nice Spencer."

"When do I not play nice?" Was the reply, a little pout on the man's face. "You gonna try out for American Duos like I keep telling you, Spenstarr?"

Spenstarr didn't acknowledge the question and simply repeated what he had said, "Play nice."

Spencer then glanced at Lassiter for a flash of a second with a cold and calculating look before he broke out in a grin, "Bottom bunk is mine. But if you ever want to come and visit the dark expanse of my habitat you may."

Lassiter wasn't sure how to take that sentence. Did he just say they would have prison sex? He shook his head, he knew he shouldn't have watched all of Oz a few months ago.

"You gonna just stand there?" Spencer asked, "Or make your very own self at home. If you do want we might be able to fashion a way for a blanket to hang from the ceiling, then you can have your very own abode. What's your name anyway? Oh! We should play like, twenty questions with each other, so as to get to know our new cage mate."

"Lassiter. Carlton Lassiter." He said, sitting down, giving a worried glance at the toilet.

"Ah, don't worry 'bout that Lassie Pants." Spencer said, "I won't look if you don't." He gave a wink.

Again, Lassiter wondered what the wink meant. "Uh."

"First timer?"

"Yeah, I uh-"

"Mm. That sucks man. I 'member my first time," Spencer interpreted him, "I was sharing space with Robert. Robbie ended up getting transferred because he had multiple personalities. Nothing like waking up to Regina. She was kinda a bitch."

"How many times have you been in jail?" Lassiter was getting worried to who he was rooming with. Spencer seemed like a character, and liked his own voice.

"This is only my second, I am very good and tend to not get caught."

"Caught doing what?" Lassiter asked after a seconds pause.

"I'm a conman. A conner. A man of many cons." He paused, "I'm the best."

"If you're the best, then how come you've gotten caught not once, but twice?"

Spencer shook his head with a small smile, "I tend to do big elaborate schemes that take years to achieve." He paused, "Lots of time to get caught. But you my friend, you don't actually belong here do you?" A smile tugged at his stubbled jaw, "You're a family man. Were anyways. She left you and so you dabbled in dark juju to try and win her back."

"How do you know that?" Lassiter glared.

"I'm psychic."

"No you're not." Lassiter growled.

"Aw, you're no fun." He flopped back on his bed, "Fine, fine. Like I said, I am the best con man and I can read people."

"Read people?" He could hear the skepticism in his voice.

"Mhm. The way you're standing, the fact that you've got a tan ring around your ring finger and how you keep rubbing your thumb there, expecting to feel your ring. Therefore your lady friend left recently. And it's your first time, you're frightened of being here. Keep going pale when I even say something that remotely suggests sex, you're muscles are all tight and I think you're more frightened of the toilet than you are of the sweet man love. Which all suggests that you are a normally upstanding citizen of southern California." He paused, "You're accent is what let me know where you hail from, Lassie."

Lassiter was wondering if his mouth was open in shock. It was clear that Spencer could read people. "You can do that? That easily?"

"Uhhuh." Spencer said, "So, just stick with me and I can keep you in the right direction and away from the crazies."

"Does that make me your bitch?"

Spencer sputtered out a laugh, "Ah, Lassie-kins, no. I don't have bitches. I prefer little boy cats. But in your reference to the word, no. I just thought that if I have to spend some time with someone, I think we should be friends. Especially if," he ran his eyes up and down Lassiter's body, once again making Lassiter wonder about sex, "said friend is clearly a bigger man than me and could win a fight." He shrugged.

At lunch that day, Spencer had Lassiter sit beside him, "Gus this is Lassie. Lassie, Gus. Lassie's my new blanket buddy."

"Burton Guster." Guster said, with a nod before attacking his food.

"We gonna play cards this afternoon?" Spencer asked.

"You know that's right." Was Guster's reply.

"Cards?" Lassiter found himself asking.

"Egyptian Rat Screw, Speed, Slap Jack." Spencer said, "Games that I can't win automatically."

"Automatically?"

"Poker, Bull Shit, Poker of any kind, Go Fish." Guster said between bites, "No fun playing when you know he'll win."

"Because you can read people?" Lassiter glanced at his cell mate.

"Never lost a poker game in my life." It was said as a statement, not a boast. And for some reason, Lassiter believed him.

The next day a tall dark haired man with darker eyes came up to Lassiter and glared at him. He bumped into Lassiter's shoulder and then turned, ready for a fight. Before a punch could be thrown, Spencer was there. He grabbed the man by the arm and spun him, holding him close and talking quietly in his ear. Whatever he was saying, it was making the man tense and tremble a bit, his eyes wide in horror. If Lassiter didn't know better, he'd say the man was about to cry. When Spencer let go of the man, he had quickly walked away.

"What'd you tell him?" Lassiter asked, "Did you threaten him?" He knew Spencer was a small man and the dark man would have been able to take him a fight so he was unsure how a threat would have helped.

"Nah, no need for threats, Lassie." Spencer said, "Not when I know them."

"Know them?"

Spencer shrugged, "I know almost everything about everyone."

"You reduced him to tears! And I think I heard he was here for murder!"

He shrugged again, "It wasn't murder. It was attempted murder." Right then he looked at Guster and walked over, ignoring what had just happened, "Gus."

"Shawn."

"Y'know, if they catch you with those drugs you won't be getting out of here in three months." Spencer looked very casual.

"What?" Lassiter asked, "You're on drugs Guster?"

Guster had the sense to look ashamed at the fact that Spencer found him out.

"Gussy here isn't on drugs CarlyTown. Deals them." Spencer's attention was back on Guster, "Seriously though, if you deal to someone here and they rat you out?"

Guster sighed, "Fine. Fine. I know." He handed the drugs over the Spencer and he pocketed them.

Another guard walked up to Spencer, he was tall and reminded Lassiter of a puppy. "Shawn, your lawyer is here."

Spencer grinned, "Thanks Buzz. Let's go and see H-Stock." He waved to the other two men, "Be back later." With that he blew them a kiss and followed the guard.

Lassiter turned to Guster, "Spencer, is he-?"

Guster looked up, "Is he? There are many adjectives that can follow that."

Lassiter sighed, he wasn't even sure what he was going to ask. "Is he sane?"

"Depends on your definition." Guster replied simply.

"He seems a bit too carefree for prison." Lassiter muttered.

Guster grinned, "That's just Shawn. From what I understand he had a kinda crappy childhood-"

"Abuse?" Lassiter was shocked at the idea. Spencer didn't seem like the type that had been a victim.

"No. His dad just wanted Shawn to become a cop," here Lassiter snorted - amused by how that turned out, "and put him through all sorts of training. Started him young to read people. Shawn's got total recall and with being trained to notice everything? He ended up resenting his dad and started doing cons." He shrugged.

"Is he good?"

Guster snorted, "Good? I doubt there are many better."

"But this is his second time-" Lassiter pointed out.

Guster shrugged, "So? He tends to choose cons that take years and his problem is that he's a nice guy." He glanced at where Spencer had previously left, "The first time he got caught he had gotten to wrapped up in the person he was going to con and he couldn't go through with it, he returned everything he had gotten information about and the person called him in." Guster paused, "The second time he was in the middle a role when something happened, he didn't tell me, but he broke character to save her. Once again, he was thanked by the person calling the cops." He glanced up at Spenstarr walked by, glaring at them, "Both times Shawn knew they had called him in, and he didn't run. He just sat and waited."

"That's some of your best nut shelling ever, Gus." Spencer said, suddenly beside them.

"That was a short meeting." Guster said, used to the conman sneaking up on him.

"H-Stock forgot some of his paperwork, so he'll be back tomorrow." Spencer shrugged.

Lassiter was just starting to calm down from Spencer suddenly appearing beside them. "H-Stock?"

"Hornstock. Lawyer." Spencer said, "He's good when pushed in the right direction. Nervous, but I'm working on building his confidence."

"Why would you want a nervous lawyer on your case?" Lassiter had the best one he could afford, which was a pretty good one.

"He's good." Spencer shrugged, "Just doesn't know it. And besides, it's not like I am spending much time here. Most of the stuff they had on me was a ledge."

"Alleged." Guster corrected.

"I've heard it both ways."

"No you haven't."

Spencer then turned on Lassiter, "If you wanted to know about me you should have agreed to the twenty questions I suggested when we first met." He winked then and Lassiter was slightly frightened by the fact that he wasn't frightened, and that his stomach did a flip. His stomach hadn't done flips like that in a very long time.

The next day a fight broke out, a guy named Drimmer had suddenly turned on the man who was supposedly on his side. The problem is that Lassiter had gotten caught up in the fight and his stomach, which had recently started doing gymnastics every time Spencer even looked at him, had gotten slashed open. He found himself carted off to the infirmary to get stitches. He wasn't expecting to see anyone except those others hurt so he was very surprised when he woke up one morning and saw Spencer sitting next to his bed.

"Shh." Spencer said, "Buzz and Jules are bending rules slightly." He turned and waved at a young blonde woman, Lassiter idly remembered her name was Juliet O'Hara.

"How did you even get up here?" Lassiter couldn't stop staring at Spencer's face. It looked slightly pained.

"Oh, I come up here about two or three times a month." Spencer replied with a shrug, "I get migraines. But I'm supposed to stay in my bed, which is over there." He pointed to a bed that was across the room which was next to Drimmer's. "I don't like Drimmer. He's an ass." He pouted and Lassiter hated that he found it cute. He was now feeling a bit like the lead in the movie Let's Go To Prison, who started out afraid of, what did Spencer call it? Sweet-man-love, but ended up with a man of his own. He hadn't seen that movie in years.

"Your migraines are from your memory?" Lassiter made a guess, wishing that Spencer were not hurting.

Spencer nodded and then winced. "I see you were paying attention to Gus' lecture of me, Lassie." Lassiter felt his face flush which just caused the younger man to grin. "Well, if you want to find out more about me, how about we do play that game of twenty questions, eh? Otherwise we'd have to sit on our separate beds and be quiet."

Lassiter had quickly learned that Spencer was hardly ever quiet. He filled up nearly every moment with sound. Be it talking, rambling, singing, simply moving around on the squeaky bed or snoring, it was noise. "Fine. Whatever." He felt his lips wanting to smile at the idea.

Spencer himself grinned crookedly, "Good good. Glad your not being a clogged smoke stack."

"I don't think I'll ever be one of those." Lassiter replied dryly.

Spencer chuckled, "I'll go first. What is your favorite Disney movie?" Lassiter gave him a look. "You have to answer it Lassie-face." Lassiter mumbled something, "What was that?"

"Bambi." Lassiter replied again. "Is it true your dad wanted you to be a cop?"

"True as toast." Spencer nodded, "He was a cop himself. So you can imagine his reaction when I was first arrested." He shrugged nonchalantly though Lassiter could tell that Spencer really didn't get on well with his father. "What did you want to be when you were teeny?"

"Cowboy." Lassiter replied, waiting for Spencer to mock him only to see a gleam in the other man's eyes. "You ever been married?"

"Nope. For a few reasons. One, busy with my job," he winked then, "two, fancy men a tad more than women - not that I don't appreciate a good woman - and it's basically been illegal to marry a man in most states."

Lassiter's stomach was doing more than flips now, it seemed to be dancing a jig. He had been getting slight feelings that Spencer wasn't straight, but he had never tried to make a prison move on him during his stay yet. So he hadn't been sure.

O'Hara walked up then, "Shawn, lets get you back in bed, the Warden is coming. She'll not like that you're out of bed."

Spencer grinned and waved at Lassiter as he walked back to bed just in time for the door to open and a woman with blonde hair walked in, "O'Hara." She nodded.

"Warden Vick." O'Hara smiled at the other woman. "What can I do to help you?"

"Madeleine Sencar is here to interview Drimmer. He's started one too many fights. Is he stable enough to leave for the interview?"

O'Hara glanced at Drimmer and his chart, "Yes, for a little bit. I want him back here right away. He managed to get himself beat up in this last brawl he started."

Vick nodded, "Good. Get him ready. Call Spenstarr to escort him when he's ready."

By the next day Spencer was back in his cell and the day after that Lassiter was healed enough to go back. When he got back in, Spencer ducked his head out from his blankets of his little cave of a bed, "Lassie-face! You're back! Come here, I wanna show you something."

Lassiter shrugged and crawled under the blankets with him. "What is it?"

"I can make a shadow moose." He had the blankets cracked enough to let a little bit of light in and in it he made something that didn't look like a moose.

Lassiter found himself laughing which caused Spencer to grin at him. Lassiter hadn't laughed like that in a while. His marriage had been on a bad turn for years and he was finally feeling comfortable around his cell mate. Before Lassiter knew what he was doing he leaned forward and kissed Spencer on the lips.

"Didn't know you had a think for shadow mooses you kinky Irishman, you." Spencer muttered.

"Moose." Lassiter corrected.

"I've heard it both ways." Was the protest from the younger man.

Lassiter smiled and shook his head, "Maybe back in first grade."

"Total recall, I remember hearing it." Spencer murmured, starting another kiss.


End file.
